


By the Seat of His Pants

by mquester



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Discipline, Dubious Consent, M/M, Non-consensual punishment, Spanking, Underage Character, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-11-18 03:52:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mquester/pseuds/mquester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has a penchant to reacting to life in a physical and sometimes violent way. Stiles has a tendency to ignore orders and mouth off in his presence.</p><p>One night Stiles pushes a bit too much and finds himself the owner of a sore ass under Derek's heavy hand. What happens when he stops feeling humiliated and starts finding the thought of being spanked again more than a little hot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heavy Handed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story has been a pain to tag correctly. There is no non-consenual sex in this story. There IS non-consensual punishment though, and I don't want anyone triggered by that. If anyone can think of a tag that incorporates that, I'd be happy to add it.

 

It hadn’t exactly been their greatest battle, but they had all survived to tell the tale and Stile’s dabbling in magic and experiments with wolfsbane had played some small part in that.

Stiles figured that was good enough for him, but as Derek drove himhome so Scott and Allison could go have some _thank-goodness-we-didn’t-die-sex_ in Stiles jeep, it was apparent that Derek didn’t agree with that assessment.

At all.

 

“You used a spell you had only read once, combined with liquid mountain ash you created yourself, even though you had no idea if it would work or not,” Derek said in a low, dangerous tone.

“You do realize you could have died tonight?” he asked.

Stiles shrugged nonchalantly, but felt the need to defend himself when Derek glared in response.

“But I didn’t, right? How was I supposed to know it took awhile to kick in and start working? Once it did, you have to admit it was cool how fast the alphas got messed up, right?”

 

Derek gripped the steering wheel more tightly and for a minute, Stiles though his head was going to get slammed forward into the dashboard.

“I told you to stay in the house, and instead you ran out and let an alpha grab you by the throat. The only reason you are alive right now is because she was playing with you before she went for the kill. You **should** be dead.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Stiles remarked, surprised when Derek bared his teeth in response.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Derek said angrily.

 

Stiles sighed, ready for the conversation to be over. “Whatever. Look, I know you’re the big bad alpha but I’m not part of your pack. I don’t have to follow your orders.”

So maybe it sounded a little disrespectful but he wasn't one of Dereks werewolf groupies, right? Stiles was a free agent even if Scott had finally officially joined the pack earlier in the summer.

Then Derek was pretty much growling and pulling the Camero over into a nearby field.

Before Stiles could even ask what he thought he was doing, Derek had unbuckled both their seat belts and was pulling Stiles up by his shirt front until he was only centimeters from Derek’s face.

Derek's eyes flashed red as he spat out, “If you run with my pack then you’re part of it and you’re my responsibility. You **_will_** learn to follow my orders.”

“Pretty sure the correct response to that is ‘Make me’. I’m not one of your wolves who is going to roll over and show my belly just because you get pissed off,” Stiles quipped with a roll of his eyes.

 

Before the last word was even out of his mouth, Derek’s seat was gliding backwarks with a metallic clang and Stiles found himself yanked face down across Derek’s lap.

“If you’re going to act like an immature _brat_ then I’ll treat you like one,” he heard Derek growl.

Derek’s hand came down hard on his butt and Stiles realized with a start that Derek was _spanking_ him. Seriously?

Times like that, Stiles was suddenly reminded that Derek was a _lot_ stronger than him, and maybe he should feel grateful that Derek was opting to humiliate and hit him a bit rather than _really_ beat him up, but all he could focus on was the heavy hand slapping down on his rear, landing painful blows hard and fast.

 

Stiles tried to squirm away when his shock passed, letting out outraged cries of “What the hell, man? Even my dad hasn’t spanked me since I was eight years old.  Ow!”

“He stopped too soon then,” Derek muttered in response.

“Seriously, I’m like, almost an adult here! This is ridiculous! Ow! Ow! Damn! Cut it out!”

Derek ignored his futile struggles, holding Stiles down one-handed and keeping a steady rhythm of slaps going.  Stiles wriggled and kicked and cursed his werewolf strength in between gasping with pain but Derek was relentless.

 

The spanking became harder, or his skin more sensitive, even through a layer of cotton underwear and denim jeans.

Stiles suddenly regretted the wallet in his back pocket as it added to the pain of each spank to that buttock and he soon found himself begging, “Derek. Stop! Ow. Please? Ah! Ow… “

It wasn’t until long minutes later when Stiles stopped fighting back and just let his head collapse forward against the interior of the door, that Derek stopped pounding on his ass.

Stiles realized with embarrassment that at some point his pained cries had morphed into harsh sobs and that tears were running down his face.

 

Derek let him stay lying across his lap then, running a surprisingly gentle hand up and down Stile’s back until his sobs tapered off.

“It doesn’t matter if you _are_ human. You’re still part of our pack and you will obey. Don’t make me do this again.” Derek said sternly, as he pushed Stiles back into the passenger seat and buckled him in, then started the car again.

Stiles couldn’t meet his eyes, so he closed his own and turned to lean his face against the cool glass of his window.  

When they finally pulled into his empty driveway, Stiles attempted to leap out of the barely stopped car to avoid any further conversation, but he found his arm stopped by a grip of steel while he was halfway out the car door.

“You’re going to have to make a choice Stiles. Either start listening to me or stop running with my pack at all. I mean it,” Derek stated with quiet intensity.

 

Stiles gave a shaky nod and darted inside like a scared rabbit just as soon as he was released, not stopping until he reached the sanctuary of his bathroom and locked the door behind him. 

He stood there a moment, feeling shellshocked and unsure what to do next.

Finally Stiles leant over the sink to wash his face, then turned on the shower, and stood waiting nearby as the water slowly heated.

He stripped his clothing, suddenly realizing he was sore from his earlier scuffle with the other alpha, as well as from the spanking.  

 

“Talk about adding insult to injury,” Stiles muttered to himself. His ankle felt twisted and swollen, his neck was going to bruise spectacularly in the next few hours and one shoulder just throbbed.

He glanced in the mirror and stopped to examine his reflection.

His face was puffy from crying, his ass was sore and hot to the touch although honestly not as red as he’d expected when he turned around to view it in the mirror.  How sad was it to be turned around looking at his sore spanked ass in the mirror at his age, really?

Also his dick was half-hard because apparently his subconscious thought his being spanked somehow meant sexy times, which was weird because he had definitely never reacted that way when his parents had spanked him as a kid.

 

Stiles got under the showerhead and let the hot water rush over him.  He wanted to wash the feeling of being miserable and young and just _wrong_ away. 

And later that night if he did find himself hard and aching after a dream he suspected featured Derek’s strong hands smacking his butt again?

Well, at least he could pretend not to remember the next morning.

 

 


	2. Setting Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles practices avoidance and Derek confronts him on it.

He spent the rest of that week avoiding Derek at all cost, which pretty much meant avoiding everyone he knew.

At first Scott and Derek’s pack don’t really notice. It’s not that weird for Stiles to be busy while they are training after school and missing a single pizza-and-a-bad-movie-with-the-pack night can be forgiven.

But at some point Derek must be getting annoyed at the fact that Stiles is clearly trying to pretend he doesn’t exist, and he takes it out on his betas and it all spirals from there. By Sunday, Stiles was getting texts of, “ _Don’t know what U did?_ ” and “ _Derek is trying to KILL us_!!!!” and he tries really hard not to feel guilty.

The rest of the week just got more and more awkward. Stiles was spending every lunch period hiding in the library or behind the bleachers eating something he packed from home. He just couldn’t face any of Derek’s pack.

First there was the humiliation of wondering if Derek and told them what had happened. He could just picture the smug bastard telling his pack how he had spanked Stiles and made him cry like a baby. Seriously, how could he look people in the eyes if they knew something like that?

The second issue was the awful feeling that even if Derek hadn’t told anyone, that they would somehow all know due to their freaky werewolf senses.

Worse, what if they could tell part of him had found it sort of **hot**?

Otherwise, why did Stiles find himself jerking off in the morning in the shower and at night before bed, just from the memory of Derek’s hard hand smacking his ass? It hadn't aroused him at the time it was happening, but just the thought of it made him hard to think about later. _What the hell was wrong with him?_

Stiles knew it would all come to a head eventually, but he tried to ignore the approaching shitstorm for as long as possible.

So he avoided everyone by not talking or texting or answering calls from anyone except Scott. Scott, who was his best friend and definitely knew something was up but couldn’t get a strait answer out of Stiles.

Erica was waiting outside his locker after school on Thursday and all she says is, “You better fix this! Because my alpha is screwed up enough already without whatever happened between you guys.” She then threatened to “pull his brains out through your nose like they did Egyptian mummies” if he doesn’t, and Stiles wondered why the hell he never had a crush on her instead of Lydia.

Issac kept trying to find excuses for Stiles to come over to their den, none of which Stiles takes, and Boyd just watched him as if he can read Stile’s mind and it isn’t a very nice place to look into.

So it wasn’t that much of a shock when he gets home Friday afternoon to find Derek waiting inside his bedroom. In fact, it felt kinda inevitable.

They just looked at each other for long minutes without speaking.

This was unusual for Stiles, who normally would have begun their conversation with nervous banter but he just didn’t know what to say.

It was actually Derek who broke the silence for once, when he asked, “Does this mean you don’t want to be involved with the pack anymore? That you’re through with us?”

Stiles gaped at him in horror for a moment before stammering, “What? No! I mean, I just needed some time to think, really. And I was embarrassed…”

“About what?” Derek asked.

Stiles gave him a disbelieving look and answered. “Um…The part where you spanked me like I was a little kid and I responded by sniveling all over you just like one?”

Derek gave him a look that obviously meant, “ _You are an idiot”_ and Stiles shut up.

“I’ve seen adult betas cower and cry while their alpha punishes them so I think a human teenager is allowed.”

Stiles eyes grew wide. “Wait a minute, is corporal punishment like a werewolf thing? Seriously?”

Derek shrugged. “Some packs are more traditional than others. Alphas command their packs and keep power through physical strength.”

Stiles boggled over this for a moment, “Does that mean your pack, I mean the old Hale pack, used to…?”

Now Derek was the one who looked uncomfortable, when he answered, “My parents used whatever discipline they deemed necessary with their pack.”

“Dude, don’t take this the wrong way but I suddenly get so many of your violent tendencies,” Stiles commented, and Derek demonstrated exactly what he had meant by grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back against the wall.

“Packs aren’t like _human_ families. You can’t judge them by your standards,” Derek spit out in response.

Stiles squirmed in Derek’s grasp and choked out, “That’s enough dumbass! I wasn’t insulting your pack or family or whatever. I just said it made your more…um, physical reactions make sense, okay? I’m guessing werewolf packs aren’t so big on peaceful conflict resolution.”

It must have been the right thing to say, because Derek let go and backed up a few steps while Stiles rubbed his already bruising shoulders.

“Because seriously? Most people don’t throw me up against walls just for mouthing off. They might want to, but they control the impulse! _Shit_ , you’re strong!”

Derek remained silent and just studied him, until Stiles began to squirm under his scrutiny.

“Alright, so my avoiding you is over, okay? And we can just pretend that your hand on my ass never happened?” Derek frowned at Stiles' words.

“I never said that. You can pretend all you want, but I _did_ punish you, and I’ll do it again if you screw up.”

Stiles stood up with an outraged cry of “Wait just a minute? Are you telling me that unless I change into a totally different person then you’ll spank me again? That’s not fair!!”

Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles’ dramatics and responded, “I’m not asking you not to be you. I’m just asking you to not do anything stupid."

Stiles crossed his arms and glared at the alpha’s answer.

”Ask anybody. That’s kind of one and the same thing. I do stupid stuff without thinking it through. It’s how I work."

Derek shrugged and moved to climb out the bedroom window, turning back to comment, “Well, that better change or you’re going to get a lot of physical reminders to help you learn to think first.”

Stiles just gaped at the empty space where Derek had been minutes before and threw himself back onto his bed with a groan.

“ **Shit**. I am so _fricking_ dead!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No dub-con or discipline or actual sex in this part, just mentions of last chapter.


	3. By the Skin of his Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is trying hard to not get punished again, but there are times when he acts before thinking things through (although to be fair, no one expects to battle a mutant chupacabra.) 
> 
> Oh, and he proves the verity of Pavlov's conditioned response with the worse possible timing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is no sex yet (sorry :P)
> 
> There are dangerous situations and another spanking though, and a bit of a evil ending. 
> 
> The warnings for the next chapter will need to be read very carefully though...

The next week and a half, Stiles was so careful he didn’t even get a papercut.

As much as it pained him to do so, he tried not to get in the middle of anything dangerous or stupid.

He _really_ tried.

Stiles thought he caught Derek giving him an approving look once when he chose to stay behind while the pack investigated a disturbance in the woods (and missed out on seeing a demon possessed bear. He pouted about that for an entire 48 hours.)

Part of him almost _wanted_ to mess up and see if Derek would spank him again, and part of him knew that would be a very bad idea and he was probably going to get in trouble and end up with Derek punishing him again anyway, so why rush it?

He could wait.

Stiles was realizing that he _maybe_ kinda had a kink regarding spankings considering how he was masturbating to the thought of Derek spanking him before, and he’d discovered a whole internet full of porn featuring spankings that he’d never viewed before as well.

It was hot enough to imagine and remember that he used way too much hot water “showering” multiple times each day, and even his dad seemed a bit suspicious.

But it was like Derek's spanking him had triggered some latent response inside him. Before when Stiles thought about sex it had featured soft breasts and wet holes and leaking cocks (nothing wrong with being bi, okay?) but now? There were hard hands slapping his butt in every fantasy, and maybe even Derek's voice in the background. He just couldn't control it.

 

It took him a total of ten days to screw up again, and considering how often his life was put in danger in the average week just being around Scott, much less the rest of the pack, Stiles thought that he was doing pretty darn good at meeting Derek’s command not to do anything “stupid”.

Of course, Derek didn’t agree when it all came to light later.

But it totally wasn’t Stiles fault that he nearly got killed. Well, not only his fault anyway…

 

The older Hispanic lady who came into town with a “ _Leer La Mano Gratis_ ” magnetic sign on the side of her large blue van made all the pack and its associated humans uneasy. The werewolves especially could sense her magic abilities and strong disturbing scents.

Still, Deaton vouched for her as a _bruja_ he had worked with before, so Derek and his pack tolerated her presence.

At least they did right up until her pet chupacabra managed to drain his mistress of blood and escape, wrecking havoc and killing two innocent people.

Soon after, Derek and Peter were off hunting for the damn thing with Chris Argent, mainly to keep more hunters that might decide to go after the werewolf pack from descending on the area. Dr. Deaton was performing some spell over the dead woman in an attempt to track her familiar.

 

Meanwhile, Stiles, Lydia, Allison and the betas were all stuck going through every document at their disposal in an attempt to find any useful information about the beast and contact Derek with it.

It felt like nothing but busywork to keep them out of the way, and the werewolves especially were more than a bit annoyed at being left out of the hunt.

It was Stiles who stumbled on the most important detail first.

“It says here that chupacabras love goat blood more than any other kind,” he announced to the room.

Erica rolled her eyes and quipped back, “Well, it’s not going to find much of that in Beacon Hills!”

It was silent then as they all went back to whatever device or book they were reading, until Issac piped up, “Hey! What about that hippy lady on the edge of town? The one who bakes all those meat pies for the Christmas festival? Doesn’t she have a lot of goats out on her property?”

Lydia frowned and tried to identify who he meant. “Wasn’t she the one whose husband got killed in Afghanistan a year or two ago?”

Stiles actually had no idea who they were discussing until she said that. “Oh, yeah! And they had this big family. Like six or seven kids…” he added.

They were all silent a moment as that fact sunk in. Someone muttered a curse word, and the humans started gathering weapons.

It took Stiles a good ten minutes to find a name and address online, but luckily it wasn’t all that far away.

 

The werewolves opted to shift and run through the woods to the location, while Lydia took Allison in her car and Stiles drove his jeep. They were trying to save a widow and her children who were all possibly in danger, so Stiles thought it was rather understandable that none of them thought to stop and text the alpha about where they were going. Right?

 

The werewolves made it there first, and Stiles could hear one of them howling as he pulled up in his vehicle. Lydia and Allison went to the woman’s front door to check on her and her family while Stiles jumped out and headed to the nearby field where the pack had cornered the creature. The betas were circling and harassing the surprisingly large chupacabra.

Hadn’t the bestiary stated they were only the size of a dog? Not this one. It towered over the shifted weres that were snapping at its strangely shaped legs, showing them its long teeth and making a spine-chilling hissing sound. It was obvious how the pack had found it so fast, as the stench of sulfur clung to it even with Stiles’ non-enhanced nose.

Stiles pulled the weighted, barbed net he had been volunteered to bring along out of his Jeep. Now he worried whether it was even big enough to do any good as he tried to avoid claws and teeth and get close enough to throw it over the enraged chupacabra.

He managed to get it over the entire monster’s head with his first throw and felt more than a bit smug – until he realized that he was responsible for keeping hold of a very pissed off scary-looking supernatural thing.

The werewolves began to close in on the chupacabra, and it made a last, frantic effort to escape, kicking and biting as the pack pined it down. Stiles did his best to keep out of the way, until the chupacabra seemed to realize that the human holding the net lacked teeth and claws and would be the easiest captor to bring down.

It lunged straight for him, and despite the werewolves clutching at the monster as they realized what was happening, it broke free of the net and would have hurt him. Maybe more than hurt him. Those fangs looked sharp as hell.

But a large werewolf with glowing red eyes inserted itself between Stiles and the chupacabra, pushing him back out of the way onto the hard ground.

The chupacabra’s eyes glowed red, mirroring Derek’s, as it tried to fight free of the alpha’s gripping claws. It was no contest which of them would win though, as Derek let out a growling roar and sliced across its throat in a single motion then threw the dying creature to the ground.

A minute later, all that remained was a dead mystical creature, a few dead goats and one very pissed off Derek Hale. It would have been funny to see the pack cowering and submitting in an attempt to appease him, if Stiles hadn’t been scared shitless of the alpha himself at that moment, because whatever happened the rest of the night was not likely to be good.

 

Chris Argent and his daughter were at the widow’s house, convincing her that a large predator had escaped from an animal sanctuary and been on her property, but had been killed during capture.

The remains had already been hauled off by Peter, who had muttered something to Derek as he left that only seemed to make his nephew even angrier.

When the alpha stood up and said, “Scott, Erica and Boyd- go back to your homes and stay there until I come see you each in the morning. Issac, stay with Scott tonight. Lydia is going home with Allison,” no one was about to argue.

Not even Stiles, when Derek said to him, “C’mon. You’re driving me back.”

 

The moment they got into Stiles’ jeep, Derek turned to him and asked, “Is your Dad home tonight?”

“Yes!” Stiles answered, “Um…Maybe?”

Derek glared, saying, “You’re lying. Take us to your house now!” and Stiles didn’t argue.

He may have pissed Derek off more than a few times in the past, but he’d never seen him lose control enough before that his eyes were glowing red even when just talking to him, and even he wasn’t brave enough to challenge him right then.

The rest of the drive consisted of a fuming Derek glaring at Stiles, whose hands shook with nerves as he gripped the steering wheel tight. He knew Derek must be able to hear his heartbeat frantically thumping, but he didn’t react.

If Stiles thought Derek was mad at him the first time he spanked him in the Camaro, it was nothing compared to the fury that was practically radiating off Derek in waves now and he didn’t want to think about what would happen when they got back to his house. When his house appeared before them, Stiles realized he should have driven more slowly but by then it was too late.

Parking the jeep and unlocking the front door was just a blur, because the next thing Stiles knew, Derek had herded him up to his bedroom, still completely silent.

Stiles came out of his daze when Derek’s hands reached down to unbutton Stiles’ jeans and strip him down to his boxers. He couldn’t hold back a little yelp of protest at losing a layer of clothing, but then Derek was seated on the side of his bed and pulling Stiles towards him.

“Aw…shit. Shit! Derek, man, don’t do this again!” Stiles begged.

Derek froze and in a quiet, serious voice said, "Are you part of my pack, to punish as I see fit? Or do I leave now?"

The fact that if he had Derek leave and didn't submit to this, then Stiles wasn't welcome in the pack anymore went unspoken.

Relaxing and letting Derek position him across his lap was one of the hardest things Stiles had ever done, but he forced himself not to fight it.

Derek’s arm swung downward, and his hand hitting Stiles’ butt felt just as hard as he remembered. Maybe it was even harder with no jeans to present a barrier.

Stiles hid his face against the bed covers and whimpered at that first sharp slap, but Derek pulled his head back to look him in the eyes.

“I want you to count out loud and not stop until I tell you to,” he said.

Stiles balked but then Derek asked “Do you understand?” in a stern voice and Stiles found himself nodding instead.

As the next spank landed, he managed to let out a garbled, “One!” but by the time he had counted to five, Stiles realized he had a _big_ problem - because apparently all that jacking off he had done in the past week or so to the memory of Derek spanking him? It had caused what amounted to a conditioned response and Stiles found himself achingly hard and trying to hide it.

He frantically tried to think of the unsexiest things imaginable, but he was hard as a rock and the counting thing? It somehow just made Derek spanking him even hotter.

All it took was one slightly harder swat to push his erection down against Derek’s jean-clad thigh so he could feel Stiles’ reaction and the alpha stopped immediately.

“Are you… ** _getting off_** on this?” Derek spat out, voice rough and angry.

And Stiles realized that he may have thought he was in trouble before, but the situation was now _**so**_ much worse.


	4. By the End of the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' punishment continues and ends up being way more than he had bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot stress warnings enough for this part. There is a belt. It is used to hit another person. If you have issues or triggers with this, please skip this chapter. 
> 
>  
> 
> * The smut all happens in chapter 5 anyway :P

Stiles didn’t stop to examine consequences; because he knew whatever happened next couldn’t possibly be good. He just pulled away and made a dash for the bathroom because, hey, at least it had a locking door. 

Except there was that pesky werewolf speed and strength of Derek’s to deal with, because he never made it all the way to the door.

“Do not run from me!” Derek yelled, pulling Stiles back, and it was hard to tell if he was angrier due to Stiles’ escape attempt or just still pissed off from before. 

“Stand still!” he ordered, and Stiles felt compelled to obey, even when Derek unbuckled his belt and began pulling it from the loops of his jeans. 

“Being punished should hurt, not make you feel good – So we’re gonna try something else.”

 

Stiles’ shock at what the belt in Derek’s hands meant he was about to do must have shown, because Derek paused and asked, “Have you ever been beaten with a belt?”

Stiles shook his head no, feeling like his mouth was too dry to speak. 

He watched as Derek seemed to calm and for a minute, he thought he had been granted a reprieve and Derek wasn’t going to go through with this.

Until Derek spoke again that was, and it was obvious he was serious about this happening.

“I’ll be careful but you need to hold as still as you can, so my aim isn’t thrown off. Come here.”

“God, I hate you so much right now,” Stiles managed to force out in a voice that only shook slightly as he took a step closer.

Derek just gave a derisive snort and answered, “Trust me, you’re going to hate me even more soon.”

Stiles sighed in response, and then muttered, “Whatever. Just get it over with.”

 

Then Derek was pulling him right in front of him, saying, “Grab onto my arm with both hands.”

Stiles wasn’t sure what he meant, until Derek positioned him to hold onto his muscled arm like he was doing a chin-up, raising it a bit so Stiles was off-balance and forced to nearly stand on his toes.

 

The belt that had been doubled over in Derek’s other hand suddenly swung out and hit his boxer covered ass, producing a sharp sting that made Stiles gasp out an involuntary cry.

“You gonna get turned on by this?” Derek asked, and Stiles shook his head negatively.

Seeing Stiles’ silent denial, Derek said, “Good. Now hold on until I say you can let go.”

 

Stiles found himself clinging to Derek’s arm as if it were his only lifeline, gasping with pain every time the belt swung and made contact with his flesh in a burning stripe.

“I don’t hear you counting yet,” Derek commented, but Stiles could only shake his head in response, knowing if he tried to talk there was no way he could keep himself from screaming.

 

Even though Stiles had said nothing, Derek seemed to realize he was barely holding it together and took pity on him.

“Fine,” he said, swinging the belt again. “That was four. You have six more left.”

When the next blows hit, Stiles couldn’t help the choked off cries that seemed to emulate from deep within his chest, no matter how hard he clenched his teeth. 

 

Derek kept pausing for long seconds between each swing, giving Stiles’ body time to feel the burning pain radiate from the site of each blow and making his anticipation of the next hit even worse. 

He had never known anything could hurt like this, and suddenly his dad's half-joking stories about all the times his own father took a belt to his butt took on a different meaning. 

“Ten,” Derek finally said, not even flinching when Stiles reacted to the last blow by biting down hard on Derek’s arm, unable to hold back a shriek of pain any other way.

 

Stiles was lost in a daze for awhile once the beating ended. Derek’s hands were surprisingly gentle as he was laid down onto the bed on his stomach. 

He was still sobbing when he became more aware, eyes and cheeks sore and puffy from crying. His butt hurt but so did his lower back and legs, despite the fact that they hadn’t been hit once. It was like the pain in his buttocks radiated to them. 

Stiles just lay there, feeling ashamed and pathetic and like his backside would never stop burning.

Derek didn’t say anything, just left the room for awhile and came back with a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Stiles drank it all, suddenly desperately thirsty but he couldn’t bring himself to look Derek in the face.

Everything that had just happened. It was just...too much to handle. 

 

He had a question though. Nothing changed that.

“So what now?” Stiles said in a tired, raspy voice. 

“Now, you'll sleep. In the morning you take a hot shower, and you go to school and everything is normal. This didn’t change anything. I'm your alpha and you'll obey me,” Derek answered with a shrug.

“Yeah, right.” Stiles answered, then thought of something. “The rest of the pack – you’re not gonna do this to them to, are you?”

Derek gave him a look that obviously meant “You are so stupid it is painful to talk to you."

“Do you want them to be able to ask how you were punished and for me to tell them about this?”

Stiles gave him a look that clearly said he had access to wolfsbane and would find a way to use it. 

“No, alright?" Stiles answered. "Fine. I get it. Alpha punishments are going to stay private. Man, just…be careful with Scott. His dad was physical in a totally bad way. And Issac doesn’t need to deal with any flashbacks of his dad either.”

Derek rolled his eyes and said, “I think I can handle my betas. Now, you get to sleep. Tomorrow morning you're going to find sitting uncomfortable.”

“Shit,” Stiles muttered, trying to find a comfortable way to sleep on his stomach. 

 

He felt like he should be angry at Derek for doing something so severe to him, or mortified that Derek had discovered how arousing he found his earlier spanking. Maybe he would later when he wasn't so exhausted mentally and physically.

Instead, Stiles just felt drained of all emotion and so tired that he practically couldn't keep himself awake any longer.

 

“I still hate you,” he muttered softly, and Derek’s hand began drawing gentle circles on his back as he dozed off.

"I don't care," was Derek's answer, "As long as you're alive to hate me afterwards."

Then Stiles was drifting off, thinking things would have to make a lot more sense in the morning, right?


	5. Bull By the Horns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning (or rather, the afternoon) after his punishment. Pack meeting at Stiles' house and there's no way that's not going to be awkward.
> 
> Stiles/Derek bonding, Stiles/Allison bonding, pack bonding. Lots of bonding all around :P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story hasn't been abandoned, and I didn't fall off the face of the Earth or anything. My laptop died for awhile, with this story on it (that'll teach me not to save drafts elsewhere) and by the time it was repaired, I'd sort of rewritten the story a bit in my mind and had to edit to match. 
> 
> Oh, and if you get notices and there is no update, it is because I've rewritten and edited the first few parts of this story and I'll be updating that as well. Feel free to point out errors so I can correct them, since this is unbeta'd.
> 
> Anyway, no sex yet. Lots of angst and pack feels and some peacemaking instead. It's coming though, I promise :P

Stiles wasn’t really surprised to wake up to an empty bedroom the next morning.

Derek had pretty much said he’d be seeing Scott and Issac over at Scott’s house later that night. Stiles tried not to think too hard about what might have gone on over there, between all of them.

He lay there for a moment after waking, watching the dust motes float across the air and silently cataloguing his body’s various aches and hurts. He was definitely not looking forward to getting out of bed and facing…anything.

He knew his dad was going to be upset at his skipping school today but he would rather face losing his cell phone or whatever his dad grounded him with than deal with school, and having to see the rest of the pack.

Stiles rolled over onto his stomach, pulled the comforter over his head to block out the encroaching sunlight, and went back to sleep.

He was more than a little surprised hours later to find Derek by his bed, shaking him awake.

“It’s afternoon,” Derek said disapprovingly. “You didn’t go to school today.”

 

Stiles groaned as he felt the burning pain across his buttocks make it known, and decided that moving was a bad decision on his part.

“Kinda sure both those things are at least partially your fault,” he accused in response.

There was a flash of something that might have been guilt across Derek’s face, then he was holding a greasy bag out towards Stiles.

“Here. You need to eat,” he said simply and Stiles snatched the bag from his hand, needing no further urging.

“Cheeseburger? And curly fries?! Dude, are you trying to make up for last night?” Stiles asked as he realized how absolutely ravenous he truly was and began shoveling the food into his mouth.

Derek glared at him. “No. You deserved to be punished for doing something that stupid.”

Stiles gave him a doubtful look and Derek crossed his arms and looked away, avoiding Stiles eyes as he muttered, “But I could have controlled my anger more.”

“What, the might alpha is fallible and human?” Stiles said with false shock.

Derek walked to the window and looked out it, not rising to the bait.

 

 Stiles shrugged and continued eating. He’d almost forgotten what they were talking about when Derek replied, “No, I’m not human. That was the problem.”

He pulled Stiles’ computer chair over by the bed and watched quietly while Stiles ate, as if that wasn’t awkward or anything. Stiles offered a fry, but Derek just made a disgusted face. Stiles shrugged and munched it himself.

When he finished eating, Derek handed him an energy drink and shook some pills out of a bottle of Tylenol and gave them to him as well.

“Dude, the pain pills will barely affect me. It takes major prescription pain killers to work on me. I’m what’s knows as ‘hard to sedate.’ The energy drink isn't something I should have either," Stiles commented. “Thanks for the thought though.”

Derek looked puzzled for a minute. “I've seen you drink soda,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but caffeine actually calms me down.  I drink too much of that energy stuff along with my Adderall and my heart starts pounding out of my chest.”

Derek gave him a doubtful look.

“Hey, you can hear my heartbeat, right? How about I drink it and we can track how much my heart speeds up! We could try it with all the different energy drinks, and compare the results!”

Derek just rolled his eyes and snatched the drink from Stiles hand, drinking it himself.

“Aw man. C’mon, it would be for science.” Stiles said with a whine.

Derek shook his head in exasperation. “Can’t you keep from jumping from topic to topic?”

“Not usually.”

“That’s just…weird.”

“ADHD is a freaky master, okay?”

 

Derek went downstairs and returned a minute later with a glass of water, which Stiles used to take his prescription meds.

“It’s late. You need to clean up and get dressed,” Derek remarked.

“We going to a party I didn’t know about?” Stiles asked jokingly.  Derek rolled his eyes and explained, “Everyone is meeting here after school.”

Stiles groaned. “A pack meeting? After the night we all had last night?”

“Especially, after last night. Go shower. I’ll be downstairs.”

Stiles heaved himself out of bed and walked wobbly to the bathroom down the hall.  He pulled off his shirt and boxers, with a hiss of pain at the way it stretched his muscles.

Like before, he felt compelled to examine the damage the previous night’s beating had caused to his body.

He’d honestly expected his butt to look horrible, but there were only a few red marks and what might be the beginning of some bruising.  The soreness felt muscle-deep though, and stung like a sunburn, (or what he thought having sunburn on his ass might feel like anyway.)

He pressed his fingers on various sore spots, and judging by the tenderness there was a bruise on one of his hips and another on his thigh that were going to look a lot worse soon, both from Derek grabbing him when he made his insane attempt to get away. 

Stiles sighed and realizing the hot water was steaming up the mirror, got into the shower. 

 

By the time he was done and dressed, it was nearly time for school to be over and the others to arrive.

Derek had been busy while he got ready, because there was a huge cooler of soda and at least five bags of chip on the kitchen table, although there was no sign of him.

Apparently he thought this was going to be a party, because the front door opened and he came in carrying a huge stack of pizzas as well.

“Expecting everyone to be hungry?”Stiles asked, secretly grateful his dad wouldn’t be able to complain about how his friends had wiped out most of the groceries in their quest for an afternoon snack.

Derek just quirked an eyebrow and noted, “They’re werewolves. And the ones who aren’t are still teenagers. They can eat their own body weight in a day, even the girls.”

“Wait,”Stiles said. “Girls as in, plural? Lydia is coming too?”

Derek nodded as he set out napkins and paper plates on the table. “And Allison. If you humans are going to help with pack business, there are going to have to be ground rules for you as well.”

Stiles sat down with only a slight wince on the hard chair, and opened the super size bag of Doritos. “Wow, Look at you being all leader-like!”

Derek was silent for a moment, then popped the top on a soda and handed it to Stiles.

 

Derek and he didn’t really have long conversations, so Stiles expected that to be the extent of what they would talk about for the day, but the older man surprised him.

“Last night, Scott and Issac brought up the fact that it isn’t exactly fair for me to punish any of you for breaking rules you didn’t even knew existed.”

“Uh-huh,” Stiles said mockingly, “And you actually listened to them?”

Derek didn’t respond and Stiles came to the realization that he actually had.

Which meant the ONE time Stiles hadn’t tried to talk his way out of trouble? He actually might have managed to do so. .

“Holy shit, you bastard! You did!? You mean I got my ass beat and all you did to the others was give them a stern talking-to?!” Stiles yelled angrily.

He recognized Derek’s horrified gaze was focused behind him at the same instant that he heard Jackson’s mocking voice.

“Aww…Did poor little Stiles get a spanking for being a bad boy?”

“Oh God, I hate you!” Stiles hissed at Derek, who actually had the gall to shrug in reaction.

Stiles didn’t even turn, but it was apparent more than just Jackson had arrived, because Scott was up in Derek’s face yelling at him angrily.

“What did you do to Stiles?!”

Even Issac joined in asking how Derek could not tell them he had already punished Stiles when he saw them the night before, and Derek was doing the glowing red eyes thing and getting more and more obviously pissed as other voices joined in.

 

It was actually Allison who grabbed Stiles’ arm and pulled him out of the room and then the backdoor, and Stiles let her. He didn’t feel up to dealing with all the drama in the room at that moment.

They ended up in the rear of the yard on an old cement bench that his mother had placed there so she could sit and admire her roses, the same ones that somehow still bloomed occasionally despite Stiles and his father’s utter neglect of the entire garden she had once lovingly tended.

The sat silently for a moment, trying to ignore the yelling coming from the house, until Allison tentatively asked, “Are you okay?”

“Other than being forever mortified? I guess so, “Stiles said, gazing upward at the trees about and not meeting their eyes.

Allison nodded. “I meant, like, physically.” She said softly.

Stiles gave her a concerned glance and she continued to speak.

“My dad was always been the type to lecture about how disappointed I’ve made him when I do something wrong, but my mom? She…lost her temper with me. A lot.”

Allison was looking downward, refusing to meet Stiles’ eyes.

He wondered if she had told Scott this, because he had a feeling Victoria wouldn’t have been able to off herself if Allison had. Scott would have killed her mom himself.

“Oh,”Stiles answered. “I’m okay. Just sore. Derek…um, he wasn’t all werewolf rough or anything, I guess.”

They sat quietly for a moment, then Stiles said, “I know she was your mom and you loved her, but Scott always said your mom was scary as hell.”

“Sometimes she really, really was, “ Allison answered in a soft broken voice.

And Stiles kinda got it. Even now, anything that made his own mom seem less than perfect felt like betraying her memory, even though she had been real and human and not perfect, and sometimes her hyperactive son had drove her nuts.

 

“Hey, this bench is killing my butt. Ready to go back in?”

She nodded and held out her hand to his.

It was weird to be talking so privately, considering there were lots of times in the past when Stiles had kinda hated this girl for stealing his best friend and jerking said friend all around emotionally.

But things were good now with her and Scott, and seeing here like this? All vulnerable and caring? Stiles could totally see why Scott was so in love with her.

Then Scott was standing at the back door waving them in, and the smile on his face when they reached it and Allison exchanged Stiles’ hand for her boyfriend’s? Made perfect sense.

 

When they got back inside the house, most of the pack was sprawled across the living room furniture or floor, with a scattering of kitchen chairs dragged in as well. Most of the snacks had migrated to the coffee table, and Derek handed him the same drink he’d been holding earlier and motioned for Stiles to sit in his dad’s recliner.

Derek moved to stand in front of the turned off television, and the room became surprisingly silent. Stiles had to wonder what had happened while he was outside.

And then he started talking.

“It came to my attention last night that I’ve failed to do something important as your alpha. I grew up in a pack, and there were rules I grew up always knowing – and consequences for breaking those rules I saw firsthand. “

Derek obviously wasn’t used to the whole “public speaking” thing, and he was pacing a bit, but he had everyone’s attention.

“It was just part of being a werewolf, and pack. I forget sometimes that none of you were born werewolves and don’t have that knowledge.”

“But that changes tonight. I am going to set rules for our pack as your alpha, most of which were rules for the Hale pack for many generations.”

He stopped pacing, and suddenly looked more confident as he said, “If there are any rules you don’t agree with, tonight is the only night I will allow you to discuss or challenge them or propose different ones.”

“And if we break those rules?” Lydia asked.

“There there will be consequences,” Derek answered. “The ultimate punishment is to be exiled forever from the pack.”

 

Thus began a very long afternoon (and evening) discussing pack laws and even history, and it was probably the most information Derek had shared with anyone since he began forming the pack.

Some rules were straightforward and common sense, life “Make sure humans are protected during fighting” and “No telling anyone outside the pack about werewolves without alpha permission.”

Others, such as the “Tell your alpha before leaving pack territory so they can clear it with packs you will be traveling near,” raise hackles and led to long, involved debates.

“So you’re saying if I go skiing with my parents on holiday, I have to get your PERMISSION first?” Jackson said disbelievingly.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Derek answered. “There are formalities that have to be observed between werewolf packs to keep you safe. You won’t have your pack nearby to back you up, and lone wolves get killed.”

The meeting went on for hours. Derek would lay down a rule, someone protested or asked for more clarification, Derek explained and then they moved to the next guideline.

 

Lydia had apparently appointed herself secretary, and by the time they were done she had a full eight pages of notes she said she would photocopy for everyone later.

It was nearly seven o’clock by the time Lydia read the rules aloud for Derek to approve and the pack to review. Most of the food was long gone by then, and everyone was getting hungry and antsy.

As soon as Derek stood and said, “We’ll meet for training on Wednesday” they immediately began gathering their things to leave.

Stiles surveyed the dirty dishes and empty pop cans and wrappers all over the house with an internal groan. Cleaning up was going to take hours.

He was shocked when Derek stood in front of the door, blocking everyone’s path out.

“No one leaves until this mess is cleaned up, so hurry up!” he barked out. For once, no one complained or argued and a few minutes later, dishes were in the dishwasher, trash was bagged up and the house was in somewhat normal condition.

 

Stiles was in the kitchen putting away the few leftovers, and waving at his friends as they headed out.

“Thanks for the help, guys!” he called out, and then realized not everyone was leaving yet.

Derek was wiping down the kitchen table with a damp towel (and how weirdly domestic was that?) when he stopped and looked at Stiles.

“We need to talk, “ Derek said simply.

“Not really,” Stiles answered. “I mean, it’s over. It’s done. Let’s forget about it.”

“Stiles…” Derek said doubtfully.

“Look, I screwed up and almost got killed. You got mad and went all Daddy alpha mode on me. It’s no big deal.”

Instead of relieved, Derek looked frustrated, and Stiles couldn’t figure out why.

“Fine,” Derek said tersely. “Try not to do anything stupid tonight.”

Then he was out the door, and Stiles was left to wonder what the hell had just happened.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've written lots of kink meme fills in a couple of fandoms, but I'm pretty sure this is my first fic that features spanking - and I have no idea where it even came from. 
> 
> My idea in this story is that werewolves are maybe a bit old-fashioned in that regards and Derek had his butt whipped more than a few times growing up so he reacts to Stiles' behavior based on his own upbringing.
> 
> The spankings are going to get rougher and gain a sexual element in the last few chapters, and I'm warning now so those who might be triggered by this hopefully can avoid that...Also, the dub-con warning is actually for the spanking (especially in the 1st and 4th chapter) and not the eventual sex, if anyone was concerned about that.


End file.
